13. You Can（’t） Refuse
YOU CAN(’T) REFUSE
Marina stopped.
The pavement here was swept to an unnatural cleanliness, grit ground into pale seams between the slabs. Somewhere behind them a loudspeaker crackled to life and then thought better of it, falling silent again.
Esmee continued another two steps before turning around.
“You’re mad. You’re completely off your rocker; you’re barking mad.”
Esmee smoothed her hair and smiled. “No.”
“This is some kind of test to see if we’re serious about emergency medical care. You’re pretending to have a psychotic break from reality, and testing me.”
Esmee looked offended. “Hardly.”
“What?” Marina kept it in French. This was too dangerous to discuss in English.
“You heard me.”
“No.”
Esmee tutted. “You think they don’t do it to us? Give me a break.”
“That doesn’t make it legal.”
“Legal?” Esmee glanced along the street and resumed walking. “That’s adorable.”
Marina caught up with her, her heels loud against the concrete in a way that made her want to walk on the balls of her feet instead. "It's a Vienna Convention violation."
Esmee sighed. “You know as well as I do that the Vienna Convention covers diplomatic relations. It’s about diplomats, embassies, diplomatic privileges and immunities. And you know better than most that we're not accredited. It doesn’t cover us, therefore.”
“That isn’t how the convention works.”
“No? Then you can write a memorandum about it when we get home.”
“Esmee. I’m not planting listening devices in MOFA.”
“You’re the security officer.”
“I protect the mission.”
“And I collect information that protects the mission.”
Marina stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What you're asking is not only illegal, it’s blatant—” she looked around.
They were far from anyone, and anything.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, nonetheless: “—blatant espionage which is not only illegal, it’s a death sentence in most countries.
I’m not a DPRK legal expert but since talking about religion is a capital offense here, I’m sure as hell that espionage is too. ”
Esmee kept her voice. “Tobias authorized this.”
Marina rolled her eyes. “Number one, he didn’t tell me what the project was, number two, that’s rubbish, he knows that would endanger our mission which is the furthest thing from diplomatic security.”
“You are such a baby. He told you himself to assist me with a ‘technical project.’ That’s what it is.”
Marina stared at her. “Did you discuss this with him?”
“Before we entered the country.”
“On a secure line?”
Esmee’s expression changed by almost nothing.
“Obviously. While I was in B–”
“You discussed this in Beijing?” Marina interjected, keeping her voice down with an effort.
“We have an accredited SCIF in Beijing.”
Marina’s bag was sliding off her shoulder—she hiked it back up. “No way. Nobody discusses such a thing by phone in Beijing. You’re even crazier than I thought.”
Esmee scoffed. “Fine. I visited Brussels before we left. Now let’s keep walking, we’re beginning to attract attention.”
Esmee pointed to an apartment building, where a face had appeared in a window, pale and still behind glass gone amber with the low sun, there and then withdrawn like something recalled rather than seen.
“You’re not going to this party,” Marina said.
“I decide what I do.”
“No.”
They crossed an empty side street, the asphalt still warm enough to smell, tar and dust. A uniformed traffic officer stood beneath a striped umbrella at the next intersection, although there were no cars in sight, his white gloves resting one over the other with a stillness that looked rehearsed.
Marina waited until they had passed.
“What you propose directly conflicts with our security here, and I’m the head of security. If you don’t stay home, I will?—”
“What? Put me under arrest, with no jurisdiction? I’m telling you, Tobias wants this.”
Marina huffed. It was true. She had no arresting authority. Besides, she was security, not law enforcement.
“If Tobias authorized an intelligence operation using an unaccredited EU security officer, he would have briefed me himself.”
“He tried.”
“No, he didn’t. He would have called me into the meeting, too.”
“He told you to work with me. He thought you’d understand.”
“On a video connection we both know isn’t secure.”
“Exactly.”
Esmee looked at her as though Marina had finally arrived at the point.
“He couldn’t say more.”
Marina’s step faltered.
It was plausible.
That was the problem.
Tobias could have arranged everything before Esmee entered the DPRK. He could have decided not to put the details into writing. He could have expected Esmee to brief her in person.
Or Esmee could be lying.
“You have no way to prove he approved this,” Marina said.
“No.”
“And I have no secure way to ask him.”
“Correct.” Esmee sounded almost pleased.
Marina stopped walking again. “You knew that.”
“I know where we are.”
“You’re railroading me.”
“I’m briefing you.” Her tone was gratingly light, like they were discussing the weather.
“You waited until we were inside the country.”
“I waited until you needed to know.”
Marina laughed once, without humor. “That’s convenient.”
Esmee started walking again. “None of this is convenient. Do you think I don’t know the risks?”
Marina remained where she was. “Nuremburg trials. You can say no to an illegal order.”
“Again, that’s for the military and,” she looked them up and down, gesturing at their clothes: “we’re not military.”
Esmee looked back over her shoulder. “During the reception, we’ll have access to the public rooms and part of the administrative corridor. I need less than three minutes.”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen the equipment.”
“I don’t need to see it.”
“You do, actually. Tobias chose you because you can assess placement, power, coverage, and detection risk. I can conceal the devices. You can make them work.”
Marina’s stomach tightened. Esmee knew exactly what Marina could do. Perhaps Tobias had told her. Perhaps Marina’s personnel file had. Perhaps Esmee had been studying Marina the whole time.
“Perfect place for it,” Esmee repeated. “A black tie soirée.”
“No.”
“Think about it.”
“I already have.”
“No, you’ve reacted to it. Thinking takes longer.”
She turned and continued toward the residence.
Marina followed because standing alone on a Pyongyang street was not an available form of protest. The light was going now, the gold draining out of it toward grey, and somewhere behind the rooftops a single window had lit up yellow, then gone dark again, as if someone had reconsidered.
“You know, if I know about your little dalliance, then you can be sure that they know.”
There was no need to say who was they.
“They don’t know,” Marina ground out, as quietly as she could. “If there was something to know, I’d know they knew, because?—”
Esmee looked at her archly. She already knew.
“—Because they’d have him under arrest.”
“At least you admit it’s about him. And no, they might not arrest him, not if it wasn’t exactly what they wanted him to do.”
Marina stopped short. “No.”
“Yes, Marina. Maybe he’s not under arrest because he’s doing exactly what they told him to do— to recruit you.”
“No, Esmee.” Her throat tightened. Every breath hurt, but she held her head up high. “There’s nothing to know so he’s safe.”
“If you say so. And here I thought we’d make some headway and you were beginning to trust me.”
At the next intersection, Esmee spoke without looking at her.
“You can refuse.”
Marina waited, the umbrella-shadow of the traffic post falling long and thin across the empty crosswalk between them.
“But be certain you’re refusing me,” Esmee said, “and not Tobias.”
That was the thing. Marina could not be certain of either.